#kids list

[drmelking]

My favorite part of The Pitt is every single doctor desperately vying for Robby’s attention and approval and then there’s Whitaker who looks like he wants to scurry off into the walls or crumple into a puddle and disintegrate every time Robby so much as glances his way and so of course that’s who Robby decides to be like “that’s him. that’s my new favorite white boy” with

[kalwithatrenchcoat]

Take a deep breath before starting your busy day—and by busy, as in, like how others are counting on you in everything you do.

[deaderthandoubledead]

Love how in the AU the dads play darts (?) and Vander is apparently absolutely shit at it

[morganbritton132]

This little idea (or this one) hasn’t left me yet so suffer through more of my ramblings.

Look, Eddie was gonna stay away from Steve.

He watched Steve swipe Billy’s keys off a table at lunch and then chuck them into the woods behind the school last week, and decided that he wants no part of that.

If King Steve is testing out teen rebellion, that’s fine but Eddie is eighteen and he doesn’t have rich boy money to bail him out when shit hits the fan. So…

He keeps his distance. He goes to class. He misses three days of school because he’s got laryngitis again. Now he’s sitting in a booth at the diner, miserably eating ice cream and watching Steve Harrington stroll in.

Steve didn’t have to sit with him. The diner was practically empty because it was 10:30AM on a Tuesday when everybody else is at school. So, no. Steve didn’t have to slide in across from him.

“I���m not driving you anywhere.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” Steve says like Eddie was weird for thinking he might. “Got my car back. You sound awful, by the way.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything else because his throat is on fire, but Steve talks. He talks largely about nothing but in that way that you do when you haven’t talked to anybody in a long time which makes no sense. Steve is popular.

Eddie kinda spaces out because he doesn’t care about baseball, but his attention snaps back into focus ten minutes later when a hand clamps down on Steve’s shoulder. Steve is too casual, “Hey, Hop.”

“How’d the appointment go?” Hopper asks in a voice that sounds like it’s physically being restrained. “The MRI, right? Everything come back clear?”

“Clear as crystal, Chief,” Steve replies. “Got the uh, the A-Okay. Back to normal.”

“Uh-huh,” Hopper nods and then yanks Steve up by his shirt. “Then why’d Owens say you were a no show?”

Steve sputters. This is the first time Eddie’s ever seen him lost for words, but it doesn’t last as Steve scoffs, “That’s like a health code violation!”

He doesn’t get to say much else because Hopper pulls him out of the building. Eddie watches them argue in the parking lot and then pays his bill.

He’s leaving when Hopper marches back into the building but is luckily spared a glance from the chief. He’s not sure if Hopper even noticed him sitting there and he is fine with that.

What Eddie should do is get in his van and go home, but instead, he finds himself walking towards where Steve is waiting next to Hopper’s truck. As he gets closer, he sees that Steve is less waiting and more handcuffed to the side mirror so he can’t leave.

Steve rolls his eyes about the whole thing when he notices Eddie and then offers him a cig from the pack he stole out of the truck’s open window. Eddie shakes his head so Steve pockets the pack before asking, “You can pick a lock, right? I’ve seen you do it before.”

Eddie almost asks ‘when?’ but just sighs instead because…yes. He can.

Hopper returns to his truck five minutes later with coffee to an open handcuff dangling from his mirror. No kid in sight.

[newttxt]

no matter what kind of pirate you are, luffy /will/ get you

[tanglepelt]

Dpxdc 180

Did Danny abuse the fact the GIW needed his parents tech. Yes of course. Danny not phantom seemed to be the trouble maker as of late. His parent threatened to withhold tech and blue prints from them if the GIW touched their kids.

Did he get caught breaking ember and boxy out of a government facility? yes. He expected the lecture he got.

The next jail break. It was not him. It was sam, Then the third. Also not him. That was Val… then it was Tucker. But not him.

The blame fell on him.

He did not expect to be shipped out of state. The GIW were happy to cover all costs. Even got him into a decent highschool. And had an apartment all arranged.

Gotham?

Not where he was expecting.

The assassination attempts. Also surprising.

Not so surprising. Tucker found out the GIW wanted to “silence” him. Offering a lot of money.

Of course his parents don’t listen. He is 15 perfectly fine to be all alone. Even if he is near some place with the nickname crime alley. Nope. He is just being dramatic. They tell him no one wants him dead.

[dreamersparacosm]

𐙚₊˚⊹ ceo!jungkook x assistant!reader 𐙚₊˚⊹

warnings ; sub!reader, reader calls jk ‘sir’, jk is a dick btw, public sex, degradation, overstimulation, you ride him and he’s so nonchalant about it, mile high club

prompt ; in which it’s just another day at work.

You’re not sure what’s more dangerous: being thirty thousand feet in the air, or the way his hand was already halfway up your skirt before the wheels had left the runway.

You’re seated on his lap, facing the empty chairs across from you, spine curved in a subtle arch like your body already knows what he wants from you. The jet hums beneath you but it’s nothing compared to the sound of his breath against your ear as if he isn’t palming you through your panties at cruising altitude.

Your white blouse is wrinkled and halfway unbuttoned, the swell of your black lace bra peeking through, rising and falling with every breath you take. His hand drags slowly up your stomach, pushing the fabric aside like it’s in his way, which of course, it is. Everything is, when it comes to him.

You whimper quietly and he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even spare you a glance. He simply tightens the arm around your waist and takes a sip of his whiskey, the clink of the ice echoing loudly in the stillness of the cabin.

“Sir,” the flight attendant says, appearing beside him like a ghost, voice perfectly even. “Can I get you anything else?”

He doesn’t flinch. In fact, his hand stays right between your legs, fingers now hooked in the waistband of your panties, middle knuckle dragging over your slick heat like he’s just testing how wet you are.

Without looking up, he replies, “No. I’ve got everything I need.”

The attendant nods, since you squirming on top of him is nothing worth noticing, and disappears down the aisle without another word.

You try to breathe and focus but his fingers dip lower, push aside the last scrap of modesty you had left, and you gasp, hips twitching forward.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, so low it barely counts as speech. The whiskey is warm on his breath. “So wet and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Please,” you whisper, a breath more than a word. “Please, I-I can’t—”

“You can,” he says, mouth brushing the back of your neck. “You always can.”

He’s not wrong. You melt for him like he’s heat itself. Like his touch is gravity and you’ve never known how to resist it. Your hands are gripping the armrest now, thighs trembling as his fingers begin a slow, devastating rhythm.

You’re drunk off him; dizzy from the altitude, from how easy it is for him to pull you apart with just one hand and a glass of Glenfiddich in the other. He’s still sipping like nothing’s happening.

You let out a choked sound as he presses deeper. His fingers curl inside your sopping entrance and you let him. You let out another shaky breath which is more like a sob, and his fingers still don’t stop.

Your head tips back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as your thighs threaten to fall open wider, your dignity already somewhere back on the runway.

“You don’t even know how to sit still anymore,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue along the shell of your ear, “Look at you. Whimpering in my lap like you’re fucking starving.”

You are. You’ve never been so full and so empty at the same time.

God, you don’t know how this happened. Or… well. You vaguely remember it.

It started a year ago. A new job, a better title, a desk with a view. Executive Assistant to Jeon Jungkook, CEO of one of the fastest-growing private conglomerates in the country. You’d walked in with a pressed blouse and an updated resume, ready to prove yourself. No nonsense, no distractions, all ambition.

Apparently, the role had meant more than just fetching coffees and arranging schedules.

It had meant late nights in his office with the doors locked. It had meant taking dictation with his fingers between your legs. It had meant waking up in hotel suites with bruises you couldn’t explain to HR and an unread text from him that just said “bring aspirin. meeting at 8am”

He warned you the first time. “If you come into this office in that skirt again, I’ll ruin you.”

And you did. He kept up his end of the bargain too.

Now, months later, here you are; tens of thousands of feet above land, shaking in his lap while his fingers work you open. “Say it,” he drawls, “Say how badly you want it.”

You press your lips together, but the sound escapes anyway, a half-formed moan as his thumb brushes where you need him most. Your hips buck despite yourself.

“Please,” you whisper. “I want… God, I want it so bad.”

He exhales a laugh against your neck, amused and unaffected. His fingers thrust deeper in response, drawing another broken moan from your throat.

“You’re such a fucking mess,” he teases, “Wearing my name around your finger like it’s a secret. Begging for me.”

You choke on a breath. It’s true: there’s a thin gold ring on your right hand. It’s not a wedding band, nothing official. But it is engraved on the inside and he got it for you three months ago when he realized he needed to have some proof for himself that he was claiming you.

JJK is engraved on the inside of the ring.

“Open wider,” he commands softly, and your thighs obey before your brain catches up. “You don’t even think anymore when you’re with me, do you?”

“No, sir,” you breathe out. “I—I can’t.”

“Good,” he purrs, fingers curling just right. “You don’t need to think. You just need to let me use you.”

Your fingers clutch at the only thing you can find: his sleeve. The crisp, rolled cuff of his button-down is pushed just high enough to reveal the ink that snakes up his forearm, and your nails dig into it to anchor you to something solid.

You’re keeling over from the force of it, chest heaving, mouth open in a silent gasp as he pumps his fingers in and out of you like he owns you, even though you know he does. Not just your body, but your mind, your routine, your schedule, your every breath. You haven’t had a single thought that didn’t include him in months.

The muscles in your stomach coil tight, your head lolling back helplessly against his shoulder. His voice is the only thing tethering you now, warm and steady against your skin.

“Gonna cum just like this?” he murmurs, lips grazing your jaw as his fingers keep working you open. “My fingers inside you, my name on your mouth?”

You nod. It’s pathetic, really, the way your whole body trembles just from the sound of him.

“Of course you are,” he bites his lip. “That’s all you know how to do, isn’t it? Cum for me. Sit on my lap and make a mess while I do all the work.”

You sob just a little, gripping tighter to his sleeve, and then, just as your legs start to shake, just as you’re right there on the edge, he pulls out.

Your cry is instant and desperate but he doesn’t give you time to protest.

He brings those soaked fingers straight to your lips. “Open,” he says, and you do, and he slips them past your mouth, two fingers deep, pressing on your tongue with the weight of command.

You moan around him, the taste of yourself flooding your tastebuds, heat rushing to your cheeks. He watches you suck like it’s just another task in your job description.

“God,” he mutters, thumb brushing your lower lip as you hollow your cheeks. “You’re fucking perfect.”

Before you can blink, he shifts beneath you. One hand still in your mouth, he moves the other to his belt, unbuckling it with one smooth flick of his wrist. The metallic click of his zipper coming down fills the cabin with such finality that your eyes flutter open in time to see him push his slacks down far enough to free himself.

He’s hard and already leaking. Thick and heavy against his stomach, flushed a deep, angry red. Your body reacts before your mind does, hips tilting instinctively, thighs vibrating as you grind back against him with muscle memory.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth with a soft pop and trails them down your throat, then lower. “You want me inside you?” he speaks lowly, dragging the head of his cock against your slick folds cruelly.

“Yes,” you breathe, already delirious. “Please, please, sir, I need it.”

“You need it,” he repeats, almost amused, guiding himself to your entrance. “Hm. You’re soaked.”

With one slow, possessive thrust, he slides into you, inch by devastating inch, and you swear you see stars. He pushes in slow, savoring the stretch. Your walls clamp around him instinctively, fluttering from the burn, the sheer fullness. You can barely breathe. Every time it’s the same: that impossible stretch that makes your eyes roll back, makes your stomach tighten, makes your mind go blank.

You always think uselessly to yourself how you got to this point. When one of your friends asks, you give the same answer: It’s his voice, his touch, his control. The way he ruins you and pieces you back together without ever breaking a sweat.

His cock drags against every sensitive inch as he bottoms out, your walls struggling to take all of him. You feel split open, stretched past your limit, and still you can’t stop shaking. Can’t stop pulsing around him like your body’s already surrendered.

“Fucking tight,” he groans, burying himself to the hilt. His arm tightens around your waist, keeping you flush against him, chest to back. “You get tighter every time. Your pussy knows it’s mine.”

You whimper and nod helplessly. “It is. It’s yours, sir.”

He lets out a sharp breath, almost a laugh. “Damn right it is.”

You shift and the pressure makes you cry out again, a weak little sound that only makes him hold you tighter. “Shh,” he soothes, kissing just below your ear. “Don’t overthink it, sweetheart. Just sit here and take it like a good girl.”

You lean forward, shaky hands finding his knees to steady yourself. Your thighs burn already, heels still on, skirt bunched around your hips. You start to move, your breath hitching as you lift yourself up an inch, before sliding back down with a choked moan. The angle punches the air from your lungs.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmurs, dragging his hand up your stomach, over the swell of your bra. “Letting me stretch you open like this.”

Your head drops, hair falling over your face, your hips starting to find a rhythm. The stretch hurts so good, pleasure simmering low in your belly, your thighs trembling with the effort to keep moving. He groans behind you, “That’s it. Fuck, that’s my girl.”

Of course you’re his girl. You’ve always been since the first time he made you cum on his desk and told you not to get any ideas. Since the first time he let you stay the night but made you leave before sunrise.

Since the first time you said “yes, sir” and meant every word.

“Jungkook,” you whimper, bouncing a little harder now, every motion pushing him deeper, “I—I don’t know if I can—”

“Yes, you can,” he growls, hand sliding up to your throat, resting there, just reminding you. “You’ll cum when I tell you to. Not before.”

You nod, gasping, tears brimming in your lashes. You’d do anything he says.

Your thighs are shaking. Every movement now is a pathetic, stuttering bounce driven by the maddening stretch of him inside you and the need building low in your stomach like a fire that won’t go out.

You should feel ashamed but your mind is gone. Fucked right out of your body and left hovering somewhere above the clouds with the seatbelt sign still glowing overhead.

You’re still moving. gripping his knees for balance, skirt hitched up to your waist, blouse half off, bra on display and he’s just sitting back now, fully leaned into the leather of his chair, cock buried deep inside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

One hand rests lazily on your hip. The other holds his glass, the amber liquid catching the cabin lights in a warm shimmer as he lifts it to his lips, eyes locked on the way you move for him.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, “Bouncing like a good little fucktoy. So fucking pretty like this.”

You don’t even hear her footsteps until she’s already there.

“Mr. Jeon,” comes the voice, professional, not a hint of shock. “Just letting you know we’ll be landing in about an hour. Would you like anything else before we begin our descent?”

You freeze for a second but Jungkook doesn’t. He takes another sip of his whiskey, lets out a soft sigh and replies, casual as ever: “No, I’m good. My assistant is good too.”

The attendant offers a polite smile like she didn’t just see you fully fucked-out and stuffed full in her peripheral vision, and glides away without another word.

You should be mortified. You should be scrambling to fix your shirt, to pull your skirt down, to hide. But all you can do is keep moving. You keep rolling your hips in tiny, desperate circles that send sparks up your spine, because you’re so close. You’re going to cum and you don’t even care who knows it.

“I should make you stop,” Jungkook says idly, thumb dragging along the curve of your ass. “Should make you sit still and behave like a proper assistant.”

“Please don’t,” you gasp, your whole body clenched around him. “Please, sir, I— I’m so close, I can’t—”

“Of course you’re close,” he mutters. “You get off on this. Being used and watched. Being mine.”

You whimper, helpless, your grip tightening on his knees as you bounce faster, chasing that high like it’s the only thing that’s ever mattered.

He finishes his drink in one smooth sip, sets the glass down, then slides both hands to your hips, steadying you.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, voice hot against your ear. “Be a good girl. Cum for me.”

Your vision blurs, your whole body spasms, and the orgasm crashes through you with white-hot force, ripping the air from your lungs as you fall apart in his lap. Still, his cock stays buried inside you and his hands don’t stop and you can’t think of a single reason to care.

Your body’s trembling, thighs twitching, breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a sob but you don’t stop.

He hasn’t finished and he hasn’t told you to get off of him. Which, in his words, means you keep going.

Your cunt is throbbing, slick and soaked and stretched so wide you feel hollow and full at once. The orgasm is still echoing through you, nerves frayed. You grind down onto him with shaky little bounces that make your overstimulated walls flutter around him.

“Good girl,” he exhales. His hands grip your hips tighter,“You’re gonna give me another one?”

You let out a choked sound, something between a moan and a cry. “I-I can’t,” the words are already dissolving before they fully form. “I’m too—”

“Yes, you can,” he interrupts, dragging you down harder. “You’re gonna sit here and take my cock until I’m done with you.”

You comply with his request, chest heaving, face flushed and damp with sweat. You try to lift yourself again, but your thighs give out halfway through, and the angle sends him even deeper. Your jaw drops in a silent moan, overstimulation sparking like electricity under your skin.

“Fuck,” you gulp down saliva you didn’t even know you were holding, nails digging into his knees. “Hurts… feels so good, Kook. I can’t think..”

“I know,” he groans, thrusting up into you now, meeting your broken rhythm. “You don’t need to think. You just need to ride me like the needy little slut you are.”

That word makes you shrink under normal circumstances. It used to make you want to crawl off people and fix your blouse and hide in the bathroom.

With him, it makes you pulse. Makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back as your body begs for more.

“Keep going,” he moans, slamming into you again. “You’re so fucking wet. Gonna let me cum inside this perfect pussy?”

You shake your head up and down frantically, body too spent to lie.

“Say it,” he growls, hand tangling in your hair, forcing your head back against his shoulder.

“Y-Yes, sir,” you stammer out “Please cum inside me. Please, please, I need it.”

“Fuck,” he snarls, his pace snapping into unforgiving territory. “You’re gonna take every drop. Gonna sit on my cock and keep it all in, even when you’re shaking.”

“You were made for this,” he hisses, thrusts going sloppy now. “Made to ride me, to be walking around with my cum in you.”

And just as your body starts to tip into another high, another dizzying crest, you feel it. He curses loudly, hips jerking up hard one final time. Then he’s spilling into you, white ropes of cum painting your walls to a lethal degree, his grip bruising on your waist as he buries himself deep and stays there.

You’re still in his lap with his cock still inside you, thighs slick and trembling from overstimulation and the slow, obscene drip of his cum leaking down the back of your legs, soaking into the soft leather seat beneath you.

Somehow, he’s already fixing his cuff.

His other hand ghosts over your thigh to feel the mess he made, before reaching for his watch, tapping the face like it’s just another Monday.

“We land in forty-five,” he says, voice cool again, like it hadn’t just spent the last hour commanding your body into oblivion. “Fix your shirt.”

You swallow hard, nodding because it’s all you know how to do. Your fingers are clumsy on the buttons, fumbling through the half-open blouse you never managed to fully remove. He straightens your collar like it’s part of the routine. Like you didn’t just ride him through an orgasm so intense your vision went static at the edges.

He reaches into the briefcase beside him, pulls out a slim black folder, and places it gently in your lap (As if you’re composed enough to read.)

“You’ve got a briefing packet to review,” he orders, thumb brushing your jaw, then gone. “Be ready when we land.”

You blink and try to remember where you are, who you are beneath the wreckage of everything he just did to you.

All you can muster up is a nod.

As the jet hums quietly beneath you, your body still split open around him, you realize you do know how this happened. You’ve always known. It’s him. And you’re still not sure what’s more dangerous: being thirty thousand feet in the air, or the way you’ll always let him touch you like this.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

note ; i am qualifying this as a blurb because calling it a fic would imply there’s plot, character development, or literally anything else. there is not.

thank you all for flying xoxo

[nuclearanomaly]

Spite Loves...

[aroacesetitoff]

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing (in the same adventuring party)

[emacrow]

Dani wasn't the only clone that Danny saved.

There were 3 other clones that were prematurely made, kind of stabled, but didn't look how Vlad wanted and were going to be terminated, in which Dani was desperate in the first place.

Three clones varieties mixed between his dna and ectoplasm between ages of 1-5 The panic danny had felt holding toddler that look like him except for a star birthmark his cheek while looking at Sam and Tucker with big pleading puppy blue eyes along with Dani.

Thankfully, Sam had a backup backup bunker plan already refurbished and full of food using her three month allowance in case things went bad with his parents, along telling jazz because she will full murder him if he kept four little possibly now his children/cousins/clones? away from him.

The juggling and balancing between fighting ghosts, raising little kids, and school alongside the GIW, Beating Pariah King, his future self and revealing to the town that he was Phantom to save the world was brutal to him, Sam, Jazz and tucker.

Thankfully, his parents accepted him, but the paranoia scratched at his brain to hide about his clones/kids and overpowered him to not say anything about his kids to them yet.

Then came clockwork and his crytic words and Crown of Fire and ring of rage nonstop appearing floating rather innocently following him.

He has tried everything at this point, stuffing it in his locker, putting it in a fenton ghost proof chest and dumping it into the distant deep lake, freezing it which only made it a crown of ice that drips snowflakes and the ring of rage into a ring with a aurora instead of a skull.

It took him half a day to figure out he accidentally became King of the Ghost Zone, which is also known as the infinite realm of the dead due to conquest after he accidentally commanded Ghost writer to tell him why the crown of fire kept following him like paulina before she knew he was Phantom.

Apparently, since he was the last one to take the final blow on Pariah King using everything he got, the crown took a liking to his protection/space core and decided that he would be king whether he like it or not.

He was clearly king material after he balanced everything he went through alongside raising 3 baby ghostlings, which was rather proud achievement.

Leaving Danny in control of an infinite realm of the dead alongside a much more infinite amount of paperwork now streaming to him, half of them being complain about a guy name constantine with overdue summonings now set to him instead of Pariah King on paused time.

What's next? Is the Justice League actually real?

[huginsmemory]

Ideology of Exceptionalism and Gravity Falls; meta and character analysis

I had a whole ago read a post by @icanlife that had a quote by Alex Hirsch on Ford's greatest flaw, and wanted to explore what the flaw is, which is the ideology of exceptionalism; in the exploration, I’ll touch on what it is and how it is used in abusive relationships and cults, as well as how it drives multiple Gravity Falls characters and consequently how it impacts relationships between these characters, and how the show ultimately refutes exceptionalism.

Quick note here; I am not in any way, shape or form a psychologist nor have any formal training in psychology; this is written from my own experiences with this ideology and my own forays into psychology and trauma-informed learning. It is also written with a loose understanding that is likely not broad enough to cover all references to cults, extremist groups and abusive relationships. 

The Ideology of Exceptionalism 

First of all, we have to get through a drier bit, which is… what is the ideology of exceptionalism and how does it arise? Might be fairly obvious, but it is the belief that you are, or belong to, a group of exceptional people, thus more important and worth more than anyone else; ie, those who don't qualify as 'exceptional'. It is often a subconsciously learned ideology. Now, what qualifies one as exceptional can be extremely varied; generally it revolves around something that provides some form of privilege. Thus, it might be, as the main exceptionalist idea in Gravity Falls, 'intelligence', or power, or it can be such things as attractiveness, quantity of money one has, species, nationality, or skin colour and ancestral heritage. The ideology of exceptionalism, being by nature hierarchical, devalues, and at its worst, openly and violently dehumanizes those who do not qualify as exceptional. 

For why exceptionalism occurs is an extremely broad topic, but I've personally found that, for exceptionalism revolving around intelligence, it's a result of a poor sense of self-worth, and having one's self-worth tied to what makes one exceptional. Poor self-worth itself (again, broadly) is a result of childhood trauma from a lack of positive affirmation and unfulfillment of the emotional needs of the child. Meanwhile, self-worth becoming tied to the quality of exceptionalism generally is a result of when positive affirmation was pretty much solely provided around their 'exceptionalism', especially when provided derogatory commentary, or a blatant example of how they would be treated if they aren't 'exceptional'. As a result of the general lack of affirmation, self-worth then becomes often solely reliant on the qualities of exceptionalism, as that is the only way for the child (and later, adult) to get affirmation of their worth, as well as out of fear of being ‘not worth anything’ like the examples of ‘non-exceptional’ people they have been given. 

This is especially likely to occur when the child is a social outcast; the adoption of the hierarchical ideology of exceptionalism, and the devaluation/dehumanization of others often occurs subconsciously as an avoidance/minimization tactic from pain. This is to say, the child, and later the adult (if healthy self-worth is not established) goes 'it doesn't matter what the non-exceptional people say or if they accept me since I matter more than them because of my exceptionality'. It can even be taken further, that being shunned is part of one's exceptionalism, and becomes part of the qualifier of being exceptional. For instance, 'they just can't understand because they aren't exceptional and that's just a part of being exceptional'. This idea also neatly tailors into the part of the concept of being better then others means you are separate from others; this can be taken that someone who is special, needs to be alone to be truly special.

Obviously, exceptionalism is not a healthy coping mechanism for poor self-worth, as often such people constantly feel the need to prove and show off their exceptionalism to gain that affirmation and avoid rejection, which is stressful. As well, it often negatively impacts their relationships with other people as a result of the arrogance of believing that they are better than most others, or even deliberate sabotage due to their arrogance. This occurs as they flatten the complexity of human experience to black-and-white hierarchical categories of exceptional/not-exceptional through constant judgement of those they meet, and often refuse to engage with people who don't belong to their 'exceptionality', or even people they simply don't like, even if they technically qualify. Generally, those that they do like or have close relationships with, often due to being similar, are automatically labelled as 'exceptional'. Those judged as ‘exceptional’ also become privy to the open judgements of ‘non-exceptional’ others, out of a subconscious belief by the exceptionalist that the other believes similarly; something that may strain their relationship if the other doesn’t ascribe to exceptionalism. This all culminates in the exceptionalist being blind or even adverse to the diversity of experiences, which makes it difficult to create relationships and community outside of echo chambers of their own beliefs (if they can even find this), and subsequently, these people are often isolated and have very few to no close relationships with people. 

However, all humans require connections with other people, relationships where one can rely on others emotionally and physically if needed and feel accepted; they also require to feel like they are worth something, that their life has meaning. Lacking meaningful connections and having a crippled sense of self-worth, a deep yearning hole is left in these people. Exceptionalism, especially as it is a narrative constantly pushed by Western society as it validates hierarchies, is then employed as a (often subconscious) trauma response to assuage this yearning hole, with arrogance and denial. And depending on the circumstances, it can be a very strong and definitive trauma response for people.

This isolation and lack of self-worth is catnip to abusive relationships, including cults and extremist groups. These types of relationships often heavily rely on isolating their victims or pulling them into echo chambers of solely the abuser’s rhetoric, to redefine what is healthy through gaslighting; as the exceptionalists are already isolated, this makes them extremely susceptible. They also often provide these people affirmation, and in these cases especially about their exceptionalism, thus confirming their self-worth, their 'specialness', while also providing them the connection they have been lacking, either through the cult community or through the abuser’s own presence. These emotional needs, which haven’t been met in a long time, if ever, begin to be fulfilled; something that abusive relationships and cults hinge on, rather than any form of logic.

Ideology of Exceptionalism and Gravity Falls

The main characters within Gravity Falls which are heavily ascribed to exceptionalism would be both Ford and Bill; this characterization deeply impacts the story and their relationships with others (technically the Northwest are another case regarding wealth, but less directly impact the storyline and thus tangential; Gideon also is an example, but as a mirror of Bill). With each of these characters I’ll go into detail within their sections on the way they began to ascribe to exceptionalism, and how it plays out later in their relationships; I will first begin with Ford, then move to Bill. Then, to cap it off, I’ll go into the characterization of Stan and the way Gravity Falls refutes exceptionalism. 

Ford and Exceptionalism

Firstly, the quote from Alex Hirsch that kicked this whole baby off, as mentioned previously; 

“Ford sees Dipper as someone who’s special like himself. That’s Ford’s great flaw, his arrogance is he believes that there’s special people, and everyone else. That human attachments are actually weaknesses. And the song and dance that he’s giving Dipper right now, is the song and dance that he gave McGucket, back when they were younger… ‘You and me are different, we’re better than everyone else. We have a path that no one else can understand, and only us can do this.’ It’s a very seductive idea for Dipper… Dipper is a smart kid, but Ford’s projecting. Ford loves Dipper because he sees someone who’ll tell him ‘yes’ to everything. Who’ll never challenge him, who’ll do a really insane dangerous mission.”

Very blatantly Alex Hirsch calls Ford out on his arrogance in the belief that he is special, in his belief in the 'lone hero' complex, in his belief in exceptionalism. And really, it should be no surprise that Ford does so, considering the way he's depicted as a social outcast as a child (other than Stan), and the way his parents have been clearly shown to be not particularly emotionally supportive (“I’m not impressed”); they don't provide positive affirmation except for his intelligence (mostly due to the possibility of money making through it…), while also actively comparing him to Stan who is derogatorily ‘not-exceptional’, and ‘worth less’. This all sets Ford’s self-worth up to be fragile, and other than Stan who wholeheartedly accepts him, he is isolated and invalidated; plus, the only other validation he receives is around his intelligence. All very classically fitting the profile for exceptionalism.

Image id: Stand and Ford when they were children, both clearly enjoying each other's company.

Ford’s belief in his exceptionalism catalyzes after the shattering of his and Stan’s relationship. Previously the twins are shown to do everything together, having a very close caring relationship; something unlikely if Ford thought he was better than Stan. Also, when Ford is talked to about his opportunities, Ford looks uncomfortable at the way they talk about Stan as inferior, compared to how he himself is being praised; but in the offer he’s simultaneously finally being validated, he’s being told he’s someone worth something, and he’s going to be someone worth something after this. And then the science fair incident occurs, and Ford loses that validation from his parents, from the judges and a future of more validation; after being promised validation and acceptance, it slips through his fingers. And in his anger of being denied that, it becomes easy to begin to slip subconsciously into the rhetoric the others have been feeding him; that he’s exceptional, that Stan isn’t, and he deserved to be recognized for his worth. So he breaks the relationship with the only person who accepted and validated him for who he is. With that loss of previous support, Ford becomes then deeply obsessed with proving his exceptionalism to the world to assuage that fragile self-worth, to become accepted, or even better, revered, confirming that he is someone of worth, someone special, like he was promised. 

Ford’s obsession also doubly functions as a way to alleviate his guilt over shattering their relationship; if he’s exceptional as he believes, then he’s within the right to respond the way he did, as he’s worth more than Stan, he's better off alone, and he has a right to be angry over being denied that validation. As well, in much the same way as it is used as a way to alleviate his guilt over the end of their relationship, it is also likely used in a way to minimize the pain of being ostracized (although not directly depicted); afterall, Ford’s keenly aware and insecure about his social ineptitude and his six fingers as things that make him different from other people, case in point with his experience visiting Lazy Susans Diner. Thus it wouldn’t be unsurprising if he uses the idea of being worth more than those who ostracize him to imply it ‘doesn’t matter’ what they think. His ostracization by nature keeps him from generally forming close relationships, with the exception of Fiddleford (who much like him, is socially outcast, and intelligent) during his university days. As a result, he's isolated and acutely lonely, having lost Stan.

Image id: One of the missing Journal 3 pages in TBOB, detailing Ford's botched social interaction in Lazy Susans Diner. In the background is the print of his six-fingered hand.

In his obsession over being acknowledged, Ford, like many others who believe in exceptionalism, identifies strongly with the causes of his ostracization (his intelligence, his six-fingeredness) as part of, or wholly, makes him exceptional. It is obvious through his choice of study; with the grant he has been gifted, he chooses to revolve his work around the weird, the outcast, something that you see Ford gravitate towards being an outcast and deemed 'weird' himself (which in Journal 3 he openly talks about). Something that can be, much like him, framed as 'exceptional'. His work is even recorded in a journal that Ford deliberately chooses to put his six-fingered hand on the cover of. Intertwined with the way it becomes adopted into the idea of exceptionalism, is the keen loneliness from his ostracization and a deep desire to be accepted and a wish to find a community of other weird people.

Image id: Two pages from journal 3, labelled 'Myself', in which Ford is open about being weird, and a social outcast, while also noting his ambitions and that 'Gravity Falls, [is] the place that I fit in.'

Ford and Bill

All of this culminates in Ford becoming an incredibly easy target to manipulate by Bill. He’s desperate to be acknowledged (and thus accepted) by an authority figure so that his belief in exceptionalism is justified and his self-worth confirmed. And he knows he’s intelligent, that he's exceptional because people have told him so, but he just needs to prove it with something that shakes the world. And the grant is finally his second chance after the fair, but he's stuck, and the research is going nowhere, and he's in a town where he doesn't really know anyone and he’s so terribly lonely. And sure, he clings to his exceptionalism but if he can't even prove it then is he really exceptional? Is he even worth anything like he thought he was? And what about what he's left behind, rejected, because of his exceptionalism?

And THEN he finds an incantation and he ignores the warnings because maybe, just maybe, this will be his break to get that acceptance/validation he has been chasing his whole life? 

And then it's better than that. 

A god, essentially, shows himself to him, an ultimate figure of authority. And he tells him that yes, he is special, he’s worth more than other people, and Bill’s only showing himself to Ford because he is so much more intelligent than anyone else. Ford is suddenly getting his exceptionalism confirmed by a god of ancient knowledge, an immensely intelligent interdimensional being, and he’s also showering him with affirmations, specifically affirmations around what Ford's fragile self-worth is based on. And even better, he's delighted by Ford's six-fingeredness; he's not put off at all, it even becomes his main nickname for Ford, just like it used to be for Stan all those years ago. On top of it all, Ford's own social ineptitude doesn't phase Bill, another thing Ford is self-conscious about; Bill's own social ineptitude as he's not human probably makes Ford feel comfortable, knowing that's not expected from him.

Through Bill, not only does Ford find someone who validates his self-worth through intelligence and even confirms to him that his weirdness is part and parcel of making him special, he also finds someone who he regularly (generally) is in contact with, who enjoys talking to him and even banters with him familiarly. Hell, Bill even deliberately goes out of his way (literally possessing a whole wack ton of rats, then dream karaoke) to celebrate his birthday with him; how long do you think Ford has simply skipped his birthday since he had no one to really celebrate it with? The loneliness, beneath his arrogance and belief in exceptionalism, is being fulfilled; for the first time since Ford was a teenager, he's fully accepted by someone, social awkwardness, six fingers, exceptionalism and all. 

Image id: One of the lost pages from Journal 3 in TBOB, the 'one thing led to another' page, with Bill and Ford singing karaoke and drinking together, both clearly enjoying themselves; Bill has an arm slung around Ford's shoulders.

So it's really no surprise at all that Ford fell for this, hook line and sinker. Hell, if I was in Ford's shoes I would fall for it just as hard. And I've seen a few posts floating around talking about how Bill is bad at manipulating, and no, he's not. He was able to pinpoint exactly what Ford wanted and needed, and provided that, was charismatic enough to provide that. Again, manipulation isn't about logic. It really isn't; it's about the emotional core in people, what people lack and what you can give them to slowly reel them in to sing your dance and song. And people will ignore vast swaths of red flags when you're finally being accepted, when you're finally getting your emotional needs met at least in some way or form. It's better than not having them met at all, such as previously. So Ford worshipping Bill is really not a surprise, especially as Bill deliberately stoked it.

All of this is part of why you see Alex Hirsch call Ford's belief in his exceptionalism his greatest flaw; because it allowed him to be very easily manipulated by Bill, and by its nature kept Ford isolated from others, evident by his arrogance in assuming he knows best and refusing to see other people who aren't as 'intelligent/weird' as him as worth getting to know, listen too and even reach out to ask help from, it's him believing he has to be the lone hero as someone whose 'special'. It's something that blinds him to the danger of his work around the weirdness of gravity falls because he’s desperate to seek a place where he and his weirdness belong, and it's something that plays out in each and every relationship he has because it's something he clings to so deeply. It's what cost him his relationship with Stan, who previously accepted him completely, and, as he's disinclined to form new relationships and as Bill actively strokes his paranoia (Trust No One…), ultimately further increases the hold Bill has over him. It's only Fiddleford’s presence as he works with Ford that allows him some form of outside reference and reprieve from solely Bill’s influence, something that Bill resents deeply and is clearly jealous and angry about, even if Fiddleford is helping create the portal. And it's ultimately Fiddleford, once he was aware enough of what was happening, calls Ford out on it, seriously jeopardizing Bill's influence over Ford; but Ford is too invested in the portal, in chasing his own ambition and caught up in Bill’s manipulation to take him seriously, until the incident with the trial, and Ford beginning to hear other voices then Bill.

Ford’s Exceptionalism and Wider Relationships

Now back to how it plays out in all Ford's relationships; we've already gone over it with Bill's influence, because it made him extremely easy to manipulate, and with his disregard of Stan in favor of validation of his exceptionalism. But Ford, as pointed out by Alex Hirsch, also exerts the ideology's seductive rhetoric to both Fiddleford and Dipper (who look up to Ford) in a similar way that Bill does with him (although there is a difference of it being used intentionally and maliciously, compared to subconsciously and earnestly, even if it is problematic). Ford, with his black-and-white view of exceptionalism, sees both Fiddleford and Dipper as people who are like him; 'exceptional', and so he treats them as such, and uses this rhetoric to coerce them into helping him.

For Fiddleford, the lure is how he can change the world, how he can be finally acknowledged if he helps Ford with the portal. And it works well; he willingly chooses to leave his own work and his wife and young son, to work with Ford. Much like Ford, Fiddleford himself is also a social outcast and regularly presumed less smart than he is, and he’s got a chip on his shoulder to prove himself, to gain acknowledgement and recognition from the world at large. Although Fiddleford has a family which presumes he’s not entirely lonely like Ford is, he also clearly has deep feelings for Ford, some which are hinted to be more than just ‘friendly’ feelings; it is likely the combination of the lure of validation and spending time with Ford, a kindred spirit that accepts him and an old friend/crush, that causes him to agree (afterall, it was Ford who made Fiddleford feel accepted and choose to stay at Backupsmore). And Fiddleford’s not even considered a partner, but rather an assistant to Ford due to Ford's arrogance, and he still drops everything to go! It’s more about their relationship and connection rather than validation, but that doesn’t stop Ford from espousing exceptionalism. And this is a distinguishing difference, because although Fiddleford would like recognition, he’s not there solely because of it; he’s not a believer in exceptionalism nor arrogant about his skills, and so, unlike Ford who is blinded by his obsession, he’s much more aware of the dangers of the weirdness of Gravity Falls. Thus, he's actively calculating the risks involved, and when he realizes there could be potentially devastating consequences of the portal, he attempts to talk Ford out of it; this fails due to Ford’s own denial and obsession over the portal. In the end, it all goes terribly sideways, and Fiddleford ends up losing everything he had; his wife, his son, his friend, his memories and himself to the trauma he had experienced at the invitation of his friend with the lure of validation and company, due to the memory gun he had created himself. 

As for Dipper, much like Ford, he also has issues with self-worth (many of the episodes deal with Dipper finding self-worth; ie, the manotaur episode), has a physical oddity (his birthmark) and by far the trait he relies on most for worth is his intelligence (for example, in one episode he rubs it into Mabel's face over and over again in beating her in games). He's also extremely desperate to be recognized by authority figures as someone intelligent, case in point when he summons the dead after being made fun of by the government agents to try and show them that the information he's gathered is important after Stan dismisses his knowledge. This desperation to be seen as someone of worth from Dipper, much like Ford, extends to the need to be a hero, something he even says at the end of the zombie episode; yet, due to Mabel, unlike Ford he's not a lone hero, and Mabel also half the time acts as the hero.

Image id: Zombies crawling out of a crack after Dipper summons them; Dipper and the two agents look on in horror.

It all culminates in Dipper hero-worshipping Ford when he returns; really, no different than Ford worshipping Bill. And Ford clearly finds it extremely flattering; Dipper's attention and amazement of him feeds his exceptionalism. Exactly how Ford responded to Bill, Dipper is willing to do anything for Ford, excited too, in an attempt to impress Ford and be validated and accepted. And for Ford, that's an extremely heady feeling, especially as someone who has been constantly alone the last 30 years, especially when he had one previously confirm his exceptionalism all those years ago and stopped, and now someone is once again affirming that idea. And Ford doesn't have to be alone again, because he's found a kindred spirit in Dipper as his assistant, someone ‘just’ like him, someone who is exceptional. Because he sees himself in Dipper, he begins to espouse exceptionalism unconsciously, by praising Dipper's own intellect and adventurous spirit, assuaging his feeling of self-worth, while also telling him he's more important or better than others because of it. 

And it's seductive to Dipper, because he wants to hear those affirmations of his self-worth, especially as he hero-worships him, but Dipper isn't sold on it, because it means leaving Mabel behind, it means believing that he's worth more than Mabel (and also, Stan, and all his friends he’s made in Gravity Falls). It's ultimately because of his relationship with Mabel that he rejects the ideology; he's not isolated the way Ford was with Bill, and he's not willing to break that relationship for that acknowledgement, because his relationships matter more to him.

Bill and Exceptionalism

Now of course, that's only on the Pines; what about Bill? 

While it's obvious that Bill uses exceptionalism as a main manipulative tactic, it's not just an ideology he sprouts emptily; it's also an ideology he believes in, just like Ford, although it's less based on intellectual exceptionalism, and more on power and 'weirdness'. 

This most distinctly can be seen in Bill's denial about what happened to his home dimension; Bill's belief in his exceptionalism occurs as a pain avoidance tactic from killing his whole dimension. Bill was clearly a social outcast within his dimension due to being able to see 3d; he's not accepted, and not trusted, to the point that there is medical intervention to make him blind. That's a deeply traumatic experience that completely erases one sense of self-worth, where one’s sanity is called into question by your parents on something that is not harmful, that's beautiful and you just want to share with them. It's a deep and clear rejection of who Bill is, and his ability. As a result, out of a desperate bid to be understood and accepted, he ends up trying to show them the stars. And it ends up killing everyone. 

Image id: Page of TBOB, on 'The Early Years' which notes that Bill was an oddity for seeing 3d, something that was illegal to speak about. Bill frames it as something that made him 'special' and better than all the others.

Traumatized, and originally rejected by the dimension, he instead weaves an excuse of exceptionalism; that it doesn't matter what he did to them because he's exceptional and he's worth more than all of them because he can see 3d, because he's powerful, so he shouldn't/'doesn't' feel any remorse about it. With such a traumatic result of trying to be accepted by people, he rejects the idea of trying to be accepted for who he really is; instead adopting a facade of a monster that he believes he is (and eventually, becomes).

Even if he clings to the delusion of exceptionalism, and shuns attempts to find true acceptance, he still wants it; and that's where his henchmaniacs fit in, as they're all, as Bill's noted when trying desperately to get Ford to join him, weird; each has something 'wrong' with them, which is why Bill accepted them as his lackeys (although it's not like we know the context around these). It's a surface-level acceptance however, one more predicated on fear than emotional acceptance. He's taken his 'weirdness', much like many do who believe in exceptionalism,as ‘part of what makes him exceptional'.

In the same way that Ford wants to show the world that he's smart and intelligent by building the portal, Bill does so by wreaking havoc and taking over existences as a way to show the world that he's powerful, that he's someone to be reckoned with, that he's not someone to be ignored because he's someone who's worth more than others. If you can't be loved and accepted, then being hated and feared is better than being ignored; acknowledgement at least approaches acceptance, it's validation of some sort of worth. It also functions as deliberate self-sabotage of his morals, by proving that he is the monster that killed his entire dimension; if that's what he is, then that's who he's going to be, because if he wasn’t, then he has to come face to face with his remorse over what he did to his dimension and his whole house of cards around his exceptionalism and not caring collapses. So instead he keeps feeding the delusions the denial, and lies and lies and lies and keeps lying to ignore all of it, to wrap himself in this shroud of exceptionalism and brutality as a way to function. And it somewhat works, because he's mostly deluded himself about it all, even if subconsciously he knows. 

And of course, this display of Bill's exceptionalism is what brings Bill to earth, to Gravity Falls, and to manipulating humans. In meddling with earth and humanity, beyond Bill's goal of taking over earth and fleeing his own unravelling dimension, he also enjoys reaping the benefits of being worshiped by humans, who find him awe-inspiring. Their amazement of who he is, and Bill's own posturing and manipulation of people leads to Bill literally forming cults (ie ciphertology) or having apprentices that worship/find him (to varying degree) inspiring; all reinforcing his feelings of exceptionalism. 

Of course, Ford numbers among these people; he praises Bill and worships him, as he's played like a fiddle by Bill, because his self-worth and belief in exceptionalism is fucked up in a way that perfectly resonates with Bill’s. Because it's the exact same types of issues around self-worth, around being an outcast, being weird and wrong physically, and yet at the same time gifted. And Ford clearly is incredibly lonely and yearning for acceptance, but so is Bill; since the beginning he's been trying to find someone who would accept him, even if he's given up on it. And for his song and dance to entice Ford in, he pretends he's not crushed dimensions for fun, that he's not a 'monster'; a version of him he buried after he had tried to show his parents the stars, one that he occasionally resurrects and puppets around for manipulation (all lies are better when they have a grain of truth). And this version of him is worshipped, but above all is accepted, is loved by Ford. The softer parts of Bill, even if they are still weird as fuck, the parts that were never far beneath the surface for all his deluding, become loved by Ford. Much as Ford becomes hooked on Bill’s praise, Bill also becomes hooked on Ford's genuine love and care. It becomes personal, unlike any previous ‘inspirations’ and Bill over time gets to the point that he feels accepted, safe enough with Ford to share about his dimension much more close to the truth then he did with any of his henchmaniacs. He becomes vulnerable with Ford, in response to Ford’s own vulnerability with him. He’s finding acceptance for the first time in his life around the softer parts of himself, not just the feared acknowledgement that comes from his dimensions conquering; much like Ford is finally finding companionship and acceptance with Bill, not just only intellectual validation. Bill's also for once, not just self-serving; he cares, and goes out of his way to take time with Ford, even celebrating Ford's birthday (in the unique way he does things), both with the rats and the karaoke.

Image id: One of the lost Journal 3 pages in TBOB. Ford recounts Bill talking about the destruction of his dimension, and calls himself by implication a monster.

They're both fulfilling each other's emotional needs, needs which both of them have struggled with most, if not all of their lives (although their relationship is certainly not healthy, considering it's codependent as fuck, riddled with exceptionalism and oodles of power imbalance issues). And suddenly, against Bill's plans, Ford's no longer just a disposable pawn, but someone Bill wants as part of his team, someone by his side, closer than his henchmaniacs are. He's unwittingly fallen for Ford, and so when everything goes sideways in his plan, and Ford swears it off, suddenly cutting off their relationship and that acceptance Bill had finally felt, he spirals into grief and anger from the rejection. As a result, he becomes extremely abusive to Ford in desperate attempts to continue their relationship, and ultimately he becomes obsessive over Ford joining him again as Ford continues to refuse, as evidenced by both Weirdmageddon and the Book of Bill.

Stanley Pines, and the Refuting of Exceptionalism 

Exceptionalism, being a negative driving factor behind many core character dynamics, is ultimately refuted by the show. This occurs multiple times over the show, such as with Mabel in the Pioneer Day episode, especially compared to Pacifica, but mostly through Stan's characterization. Stan is someone who has been since the beginning characterized (if lovingly so) as someone who is a failure by societal standards; he’s an older man running a run-down tacky tourist shop to swindle gullible tourists out of their money, has multiple divorces, has an ongoing feud with a literal 12 year old, clearly has had multiple mishaps with the law (some ongoing), is generally pretty self-serving and is extremely lonely and really had no close relationships until Mabel and Dipper showed up. He's not exceptional; he's not even what we would consider 'decent' enough to have a 'typical, hard working job’. In short, he’s a failure, a stark difference to the idea of 'exceptionalism' that characterizes Ford. If he's gifted in any area, it would be charisma (debatedly), not anything else.

But it's still Stan who rebuilds the portal from literally only one journal (not all three!) and gets it to work. It even seems like he only needs some codes from the other two journals when he does get them, suggesting that he was able to extrapolate from what was left and the first journal’s blueprints to fix it entirely, something that is extremely difficult and technically complicated (Ford, Bill and Fiddleford all worked on it together!). Stan's able to do it, even if it's been shown he's not 'naturally' gifted in that area. And it's something he does as a result of his deep care for Ford; because even after their fights, he cares about Ford and wants to right his wrongs, believes he should, because of his whole life of being defined as a failure and even worse than that, screwing up his ‘exceptional’ brother’s life. And he’ll do it even if that means learning how to build an interdimensional portal, even if it takes up thirty years of his life doing so, and he doesn't waver. Much of this is connected to his own complexes around being deemed a failure compared to Ford, having failed to succeed in his life, and how he feels that he needs to atone for screwing up Ford’s life, now for the second time; but beneath it all, he also cares. Much like Ford, he's extremely lonely, but he's not blinded by Ford's arrogance, and as a result he wants to make sure Ford's safe, because that's what he used to do, they’re twins, they grew up together, they once they had fully accepted and cared for each other, and dammit that still means something, and Stan hasn't found that depth of emotional connection since. So if possible, he wants to rekindle that closeness they had, but first, he needs to bring Ford back. 

And in the end, it's not Ford's own special gun he built using his intelligence that 'kills' Bill. It's Stan, someone who Ford had long ago broke it off with in search of validation of his exceptionalism, someone who both Ford and Bill labelled as 'not-exceptional', who defeats Bill. It's exceptionalism's devaluation of people who are 'not-exceptional' that causes Bill to underestimate the Pines beyond Ford, and it's only when Ford put aside his exceptionalism and his refusal to accept and trust 'non-exceptional' people, that is, trust Stan once more, that causes Bill to end up defeated by Stan.

In the end, it's not about who's 'smarter'; it's a reminder that everyone has different skills and are better at different things, but that doesn't diminish one's worth or value, and that just because someone isn't naturally 'gifted' in an area doesn't mean they can't learn or use different ways to get around obstacles. Ultimately, it comes down to that no one is worth more or less than other people; exceptionalism is a lie. It’s a lie and an excuse, and it's certainly not a healthy way to assuage one's poor self-worth. What does matter is creating positive healthy connections with other people, and caring about them. This creates a community where you can be yourself and be emotionally fulfilled through these connections; and when opposition does arise, you become able to fight it together, and fight so much stronger than if you are alone.

And by the end of the show, you see that. Ford begins to let go of the ideal of exceptionalism and its black-and-white categorization; finally recognizes his own faults around prioritizing validation of his intelligence and exceptionalism over his relationships, and finally, after all the years, chooses to create and rekindle positive relationships with people, trust people, and make amends. And in the end, he goes sailing with Stan, prioritizing their relationship, finally fulfilling their childhood promise.

Image id: One of the pages written by Ford into TBOB. Ford refutes Bill's idea of happiness, and says he has finally found his own happiness, and it looks like the photo taped in, of Stan, Ford, Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Wendy, all smiling together.

TLDR: Exceptionalism, an ideology of categorizing people into being special and worth more vs plebian and worth less, is a trauma response and subconscious ideology that characterizes Ford and Bill’s lives, deeply impacting all their relationships as it is used to coerce people into doing what they want, makes Ford easily manipulated, and breaks relationships through their arrogance. It is ultimately denounced through the way Dipper chooses to reject Ford’s offer and his rhetoric of being exceptional, and through the way it's not Ford’s intelligence, but rather Stan, who has been labeled as 'not-exceptional' and a failure at life, that defeats Bill through trickery. It's a reminder that everyone has worth, and no one is worth more than other people, even if one may be gifted in certain areas; the ideology of exceptionalism is fragile and a lie. In the end, creating a caring, loving community around oneself is where strength truly lies, as is seen with the deep care and love the characters have for each other, and the repairing of Ford and Stans relationship.

Thanks to the lovely @eshtaresht who deigned to beta read this monster of a post for me

If you enjoyed this meta, (first of all if you read all this you're a champ!) I've also done another gf meta post! (It's shorter I swear)

[intricatedemonicrituals]

A List of Films That Don't End in Throuples But Should

What movies do you think I should add to the list?

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

got a worm nibbling my brain. can someone help me find a piece of obscure media?

webcomic/indie comic from the 2010s. basically a sci-fi short story about a young girl (with red hair?) who was being raised by scientists as part of an experiment. she receives a haircut/has her head shaved, in preparation for her annual brain scan/testing. it is revealed that while her body is human, her "brain" is artificial, made of computer implants throughout her skull and spine. at some point her biological mother (also a scientist on the same campus?) encounters her and is repulsed, viewing her as a machine who has murdered her daughter.

it was very poignant and it bruised my heart and i can NOT find it anywhere

[muzsmocsing]

Being friends with Xie Lian would be so weird because this man peppers in bits of his insane life ruining trauma randomly mid sentence. You'd like accidentally step on his toes and he'd go "ah don't worry about it, that foot's been cut off and eaten before anyways" smile, and then never elaborate.

[on-leatheredwings]

yandere subversion tropes i like to think about

yandere that pushes reader to the edge, so reader snaps and kidnaps/imprisons them

yandere who stalks and surveils, not knowing the reader is highly aware of the fact and enjoys the attention

reader is a former yandere who resists their new yandere's advances at first, out of fear of rejection. once they feel it's safe to be emotionally vulnerable, the reader turns out to be much, much worse than their yandere

the yandere is the protagonist of the narrative, not the reader

reader already has a partner, so the yandere is initially jealous. but right before yandere manages to dispose of your partner, they end up falling for them as well (polyam ending)

yandere who's actually quite bad at stalking/sneaking around, so the secret spy!reader encourages them to do better by offering pointers

reader has been yandere's yandere all along, and is glad they finally got their yandere to notice them. reader pretends to be oblivious the whole time

[the-red-planet-mars]

please help

this is a breach of privacy

this is silencing teens who protest online

this is depriving teens of safe spaces

this is stupid

stop it